


Coping cure

by Norski



Category: eddworld
Genre: Copious Amounts of Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Self Harm
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-29
Updated: 2018-03-29
Packaged: 2019-04-14 18:02:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 914
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14141514
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Norski/pseuds/Norski
Summary: Bottling it all up causes outbursts, but even those can be self contained. Sometimes, though, it's ok to let others know you're hurting - because they're probably willing to watch dumb cat videos with you until you feel well enough to work the problem out.





	Coping cure

**Author's Note:**

> Hurt/comfort for marcotton who I love dearly, a request.

Dim lit rooms weren't well known for their positive symbolism, they usually came with shady dealings or the scene just before the good guy comes in and saves the girl. The only deal being done in Edd's room this day however was one with habit and compulsion mixed with a deep rooted rage and anguish he could never shake unless he satisfied it. The blade in his hand worked effortlessly against his thigh, blood beading from the superficial wound before being smudged aside when the blade retraced it's steps through it, cutting deeper.

It barely hurt now, he knew that. His body was so used to him tearing at it that it had become almost numb to the touch once it clicked what was happening. It was some weird kind of Stockholm syndrome in his own body, and the more he thought about it the deeper he wanted to dig the fucking blade.

Nothing else worked, therapy had done nothing, parents had been to busy to notice, now he was old enough to fend for himself he refused to be a burden on his friends. He was the one that had everything together, if they knew -

Startled by the door opening, the blade was thrown to the floor, bed sheets grabbed in a futile attempt to cover up what he'd just been doing to himself. Two figures stood in his doorway, the light biting at Edd's eyes too much for him to make out who it was. Even as he blinked, the shapes didn't clear up, he realized then he'd been crying. Caught in the act with no sly fib to get him out of it, Edd wiped his eyes as his friends approached him, shaking his head and lifting his arms to try push them away.

Instead, they became objects of observation, Tom and Tord holding one arm each and looking over them, Tom's finger tracing along a healed scar that had clearly been a cut far too deep in its hayday. Edd shrank away, preparing for ridicule or to be yelled at, instead he was released as he flinched, his friends opting for moving the blade and fetching the first aid kit.

“I'm sorry.”

“It's ok, nobody's mad at you.” Tom's voice was soft while he made sure not to move too fast, Tord's return with the med kit setting them both to work. 

“What caused this?” Tord's voice - and somewhat shabby choice of words - nearly brought a smile to Edd's face, the corners of his mouth twitching up for just a moment. The sting of the antiseptic was unusual and took him off guard for a moment, not that he requested his friends stop. 

“I..a lot of things. They just build up, and build up-” Edd's voice shook, hyperventilation threatening to take old with each word he spoke, relieved of his obligation to answer by Tom who spoke up for him.

“Hey, it's alright, take your time ok?”

“We can talk once you've had some time to calm down?” Tord's suggestion was agreed to with all the thankfulness in Edd's world, watching as the two of them cleaned and bandaged the cuts. He was taken off guard once more, but this time by a touch that was gentle, painless.

Tord had kissed his cheek, snapping Edd's mind back to reality.

Tord didn't hate him. By the way Tom was holding his hand neither did he. 

He'd had such little faith in his friends, his partners- 

That thought was whisked away within moments, Edd's shins being nudged, Tom down on the floor with a pair of soft, fluffy pajama pants in his hands. Edd realized then that he had been in his room with just his boxers on, the cold a possible culprit as to why he was shaking so badly. He gratefully allowed Tom to help him with the pants, feeling a little better once they were on. No shirt yet, the cuts were still being tended to. Soon enough, they were bandaged, and his partners kissed over the bandages, down to his hands, leaving a few soft kisses on his knuckles, before offering him a matching fuzzy pajama shirt, which he pulled on gratefully.

Once that was done, Tord set up Edd’s laptop on his bedside table, while Tom piled his pillows up against the wall. Edd was a little confused at first, up until Tord set away a playlist of cat videos, and both of them flopped against him. He shuffled back to rest against the pillows, helping pulling the blankets over the three of them.

There was mostly silence bar laughter while they watched, occasionally nuzzling and kissing one another. Tord and Tom made occasional jabs at each other - “that dumbass cat that fell off is you, Tom” and “the one that got scared of the cucumber is you, Tord”, nothing nasty, if anything Edd found it endlessly entertaining.

After a while, he spoke up, with a sheepish smile.

“Thank you - for not being mad.”

“We’d never be mad.” Tord assured him, cuddling up a little closer. “You mean the world to us, Edd.”

“We want to be here for you.” Tom continued, taking his hand and smiling warmly. “We’re dipshits, but we’re your dipshits, and we’re going to do our best to help you and make you happy.”

That damn near had Edd tearing up. He laughed shortly, using his free hand to dry his eyes, draping it around Tord’s shoulders afterwards.

“I love you guys.”


End file.
